


4am knows all my secrets

by AllthePainofChemicalDays



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Party, Sort of AU, Stiles-centric, Void Stiles happened, blood mention, not sure where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllthePainofChemicalDays/pseuds/AllthePainofChemicalDays
Summary: This is absolute shit, but I haven't written anything in a year and got a little bit of inspiration so here we gothis is some shady stiles-centered stuff





	4am knows all my secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'll continue this
> 
> "Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn."  
> -Mahatma Gandhi

          “You’re okay you’re okay you’re okay _youreokayyoureokay,_ ” gasping for breath the young man urgently reassured himself. Curled up in a stranger’s bathroom, with a blood-stained hoodie clutched to his chest, he shakily stood. Swaying, he lurched for the sink, shifting his weight onto his hands. Glancing at the mirror, his reflection showed sweaty hair limply dangling in front of sunken, bloodshot eyes. His cheekbones stood out harshly against his stark features. He could feel a deep ache beginning somewhere down deep inside.

            There is something surreal about a bathroom during the early hours of the morning, just after midnight, but before dawn. Something surreal about unconscious bodies, lying in a dark hallway, and tip-toeing past them. Something about it feels like you’re alone in the universe. You know a terrible secret and yet, you can never speak a word of it. No one would believe him anyway.

            The young man went down the stairs of a stranger’s house, having left the stranger’s bathroom, and continued to the kitchen to escape the dull thump of bass and drunken shouting. He snatched a bottle of vodka and walked out the back door of a stranger’s house.

            He stumbled through the backyard of a stranger’s house and around the side to his beat-up, blue Jeep. He took a swig of the alcohol he stole and had no business drinking and climbed behind the wheel. He flipped the lights on and drove onto the street. He drove until the stranger’s house disappeared from his rearview mirror, until the ache turned into outright pain, until the tears flowed freely down his face. Until the first rays of light appeared over the horizon.

            The young man’s phone buzzed, alerting him to a call. He fumbled with the wheel while simultaneously wiping his nose and shoving his hand into his jeans pocket.

            “ _Stiles?!_ What the hell, man? Where are you? Are you okay? Did you not see any of my texts?” A breathless, panicked voice shouted from the other end. The young man winced. A new pain bloomed.

            “I’m sorry Scott. I’m home, I guess I didn’t see your texts, I pretty much passed the fuck out. Sorry, the party wasn’t really my style,” he replied in a monotone.

            “You could have at least told me, man. Not just leave like that. But, anyway at least you made it home safe, hope you didn’t drink too much,” Stiles glanced at the bottle on the passenger seat and chuckled under his breath.

            “Yeah Scotty I know. I’ll do better, I’m sorry. But, hey my dad’s walking around downstairs, I gotta go and say hi to him,” without waiting for a reply he hung up. Knowing he was caught in a lie. His dad was in another county at a sheriffs’ retreat. He didn’t care. Not anymore. He would drive until he ran out of gas.

            And then? Well who knows

 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated as always :)  
> hmu at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/21trees-on-fire


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